Trevor Williams - Tit 4 Tat lyrics

[Verse 1: Small World] I got the giddy up so you can go and give-y'up I sink any so called emcee you please Male or female, crew or sim'ony I betcha by the dollar like any-none can get with me And I ain't even talking sh** I be all over these b**hes, like kids throwin' tantrum fits In malls when they dont get what they want But I got whatcha need, slammin' beats that pump in SuperSports And looks to spark seed And outlast any emcees like ten year guarantees And I guarantee that this sh** right here will persevere So wait 'til these muthaf**as stand clear Or getcha armour on, because I gon get in All that's in my way out my way, I ain't bullsh**tin' This ain't no game, this ain't no threat, this ain't no joke You want a joke? Let's see what's funny while yo' a** is getting choked Headlight goin' off like I'm the hillside inducted n***a And I'm shootin' lyrical drive-by's [Verse 2: San Man] I'm comin' deep from the depths of my up-sipid-al lows Unfolds the formulaic style, straight from the soul It's the birth of a verse with sunshine Radiant rays for days, when I blast rhymes like fireworks I retire jerks cause they will never bust They can be Mounts of Helen ahead but still wanna rough They just a softie like icecream And it's a pipe dream to think they could f** with any member of the Rhyme Team Rhyme schemin', it's that straight to the point No reason to beat around the bush, plenty rhymes get pushed Mister Sanz with the lyrical flows You wanna compete? -Sweet You know how a miracle goes? -It goes one in a million And I'm not the one By the time I'm done, which emcee shall get hung by their tongue For rhyme embezzlement Attack emcees, bust they knees à la Nancy Carragen Approach the mic with all-out war plans They forever try but they never will scar San I got the scoop by my side, they like a force field I'm a mechanic for the way I build on raw steel Nuts and bolts play by rough beats and raps Destroying competition, no time even elapse Comin' off like television late night Too many in the game but it seems they can't play it right So disqualification is necessary Not being a trendsetter, more of a subsidiary Crew-true, so I lyrically slash ya Mentally bash ya, and physically thrash yo' whole genre Sk**ed emcees are now upon ya, spittin' lyrics with the beauty of Black Madonna [Hook] Tit for tat, back and forth for the San Man It's the Small World a.k.a. the Swilla Man Tit for that, back and forth with the Small World Mister San cleanin' out b**hes like a house chore (2x) [Verse 3: Small World] I see through scams and schemes like Humphrey's Pancine So wreck yo' ball or ask b**hin' rappers' worst dream Like Hakeem I thrive in a crunch time As soon as they gasping for air, I be like on overdrive And it's still the first half When n***as gettin flagrant fouls for jocking my paragraphs And sometimes it ain't fair That I f** b**hes out West but muthaf**as feel 'em everywhere And I take mine personal like Gang Starr Cause I caged in those that bite like untamed jaguars But I'mma tit for tat, I'm back in shape Frauds and fakes, cannot f** my snakes This sh** ain't rattle 'n' roll, all you please It's a new dawn, the execution of wack emcees [Verse 4: San Man] You know I rhyme with the essence, the bare essentials n***as get done over Mutt's instrumentals Lyrical jackpots like I'm pullin' on slots And if I'm havin' gla**-y eyes it's because I'm sippin' on tops So what you got? Cause I got more than you could ever gather After you rhyme, there's only laughter Small, I and Trevvy Trevvy we roll heavy and steady We used to do it in a 7-1 Chevy Dainty rhymes, not be tried or we roamin' the streets Just gear, Nike sneaks, fat lyrics and beats Nothing more, nothing less Microphones get blessed Build the rock of 19 inch til there ain't nothing less Just the lyrical jeWELLs that I ring like bells As I watch the world around I wonder What the hell is goin' on with these songs? b**hes tryna prolong that old fake sh**, wait until our earthquake hits You let Clinton compensate for the damage I make There'll be a martial law order from state to state It's like that Now put all the muthas up on a talk show "Fake Emcees Taken Out", next on Geraldo [Hook + scratches] [Verse 5: Small World] Heart and soul goes in to every set Jump sets ain't equipped to compete with this ill close knit Band of nothing to lose but everything to gain Concept German three, deserving of a pay day And my purpose in this crew: Play out all-grey-tee emcees like cross-coloured jumpsuits Now who ever steps next to These precise lyrics that cut sharp like carved bamboo And a word to all you buyers: These lyrics may cause drowsiness if you over-recite 'em But ignite 'em in Jeeps and in ya bedrooms Add enough trebble, but over-do it with ba**-boom And watch the three come to life We may not be whitchu in the flesh but the recording is just as nice [Scratches]